Love, Shakespeare
by 1147694
Summary: [SasuNaru. AU.] Falling in love after divorce is one thing. Falling in love with your ex wife's new boyfriend is another.
1. prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Masashi Kishimoto's manga/anime Naruto, nor do I own any of William Shakespeare's plays, poetry, or words.  
Genres: Humor, romance, drama  
Rating: PG13/T to R/M  
Warnings: Boy/boy, boy/girl, girl/girl, profanity, intimacy, mild mature themes

Summary: Falling in love after divorce is one thing. Falling in love with your ex-wife's new boyfriend is another.

Author's note: Oh-my-god. I will go shoot myself for starting this nonsensical piece.

**-**

**Love, Shakespeare  
**_prologue._

_-  
_  
Walking down the hallway to my apartment with the mail in my hands, I can hear literature wafting out of apartment 7B.

Yeah. Literature.

"From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life…"

That's my neighbor, Kakashi Hatake. He lives in the apartment next to mine, and he's thirty-something years old. Usually, you only see his right eye, because he likes wearing a mask all the time. He likes dogs, too. And, oh yeah-

He thinks he's the reincarnation of William Shakespeare.

I think he's insane.

Crazy, cuckoo, loony, something wrong upstairs, nuts… all that good stuff.

I'm completely serious, too. And that's not often, because Naruto Uzumaki? Serious? If you told Kiba that, he might break his diaphragm laughing.

But Shakespeare, one-eyed, insane and all, Kakashi is one of the most important people in my life. He's a good guy, quirks aside. Or quirks not aside.

In all honesty, Kakashi is a great neighbor to have, mostly. Kakashi's fairly friendly, funny, and he really would help you if you showed up at his door, say, bloody and bruised with radioactive goo leaking from your ears. I mean, at least he'd dial 9-1-1 and give you a sponge to mop up that goo. If he likes you, he might even make you coffee.

He makes _damn_ good coffee.

He was also my high school Lit teacher in my junior and senior years, but that doesn't really change anything. Because you know, I thought he was crazy back then too. My class also thought that maybe Mr. Hatake did drugs too, but hey, we were young.

Now we _know_ he did drugs.

Nope, nope, I be kidding you. Kakashi isn't an addict. Not to drugs anyway. No, Kakashi was addicted to something else. Something more… organic.

Sex.

"Kakashi!" I hollered. "They put your porn in my mailbox! Again!"

I poked my head through Kakashi's doorway- his door was open- and waved the _Icha Icha Monthly _at Kakashi. He didn't see me, mainly because he was quoting his literary masterpieces out the open window. Remember, he thinks he's Shakespeare. So instead of standing here waving his dirty magazine at him until he notices, I took action.

Read: I took careful aim and chucked the magazine at his head.

Target- Kakashi. Eliminated.

No, I didn't kill him. But I hit him. Yep. I'm that cool.

Kakashi was probably going to throw a _fridge_ at my head one of these days, but I think he'll be distracted enough by his fresh porn today. And sure enough, Kakashi picked up the projectile that so unceremoniously smacked him straight in that head full of silver hair (don't ask me if it's natural, I have _no_ idea)-

And his eyes- okay, one visible eye- lit up, like, I don't know. Lit up like a bunch of light bulbs. And not like those fluorescent light bulbs Sakura insists on buying. Like what I call _real_ light bulbs. By that, I mean… bright. Kakashi with porn is like a kid during Christmas.

His sex fascination isn't _limited_ to porn, either. He likes the physical, and when I say physical, I mean _physical_.

Kakashi is a _sex fiend_.

But I'd rather not get too deeply into that. Let's just say… his bedroom wall? Yeah well, _my _bedroom wall is the other side of that same wall. I just _know_, man, I just _know_.

So Kakashi with a dirty mag was relatively tame in my book. I even wished him good luck with it as I left.

"Uh, have fun with that," I told him, but he was lost to the world. He was already flipping through the pages. He made a vague 'mhm' sound and crossed his legs and sat down on the floor, waving a hand at me.

I guess that's thank-you.

I closed the door for Kakashi on my way out.

Then I walked into my own apartment.

(Okay, you know how I keep saying _my _apartment? It's not strictly true. I mean, it's _half_ mine, and I _live_ here, but-)

"NARUTO!"

Meet Sakura Haruno, another integral part of my life. She's brilliant, beautiful _and _she thinks I'm the cutest thing since Hello Kitty. Okay, I lied on the last one.

(In actuality, Sakura has a personal grudge against Hello Kitty. Knowing her, if Sakura ever found a Hello Kitty doll in the apartment, the poor stuffed cat would be viciously dissected with the sharpest scalpel that Sakura could find. And Sakura's a _doctor_.)

But I know she loves me in her own-

"NARUTO, there's something ALIVE in the damn refrigerator!"

I winced. That would probably be my dear old buddy Fungus, from my college days when I had Kiba for a roommate. Back then, we not only had Fungus, but we were on good terms with Bacteria and Blue Alien Fuzz. Kiba still gets sentimental over them, sometimes.

"Get your ASS in here! NOW!"

Yeah, she loves me.

"My sweet honeybear-" I started, heading into the kitchen, "Holy SHIT!"

And once again, old buddy Fungus had taken over the fridge. I swear, it was gurgling. Sakura was valiantly waving a spatula from the kitchen counter at good old Fungus creeping out onto the floor, and I was standing there goggling like an idiot.

"Naruto, the next time you forget to get the groceries and clear out the old stuff, don't forget for _months _at a time!"

"Umm… _umm_… don't panic, honeybear," I said, picking up the broom by the kitchen doorway. I brandished it at our houseguest- err, fridge-guest. _En guarde! _I started beating the brown gurgling mass into the refrigerator, yelling, "Be vanquished, vile creature!" I thwacked our friend a couple extra times for good measure and then slammed the fridge door shut.

Sakura quickly pulled a chair over to where I was holding the fridge door shut- just in case, man, just in case- and propped the chair so the fridge door wouldn't open again. Our fridge gave a final rattle and then it was still. With that done, we looked at each other, and slid wearily down to sit on the kitchen floor.

I sighed.

She sighed.

_And_ she smacked me upside the head.

"I'm not your sweet honeybear, you moron."

"Just because we're not married anymore doesn't mean you're not my darling-"

"Shut it, Naruto."

And this, this is the lovely Sakura Haruno. For everyone who thought I was a lucky guy for living with such a beautiful girl, well…

Sakura Haruno is my former classmate, best (girl) friend, and…

She's my ex-wife.

"And Naruto, if I _ever_ see Mr. Fungus in our refrigerator again, I swear I'm going to surgically detach your balls and feed them to Kakashi's pet dog."

Yeah, real lucky guy.

After a silence, she asked, very softly, "Do you think the freezer's safe? I think… I need… some Rocky Road… ice cream."

Oh god, there's only one reason for Rocky Road-

They called it 'boy troubles' in high school. Today, I call it, 'Naruto's-got-a-new-punching-bag'. I'm a little protective over my darling honeybear.

"I _knew_ he was a jerk. Do you happen to have his address, because you know, _somebody's _going to get the crap beaten out of them-"

"Naruto!"

"What?"

She glared at me.

I sighed. "I'll get the ice cream." I placed a kiss on top of her forehead and stood up. I helped Sakura up as well, and told her, "Go turn on the TV, or something. I'm sure the freezer's safe, and if not, I'll brave it for you, honeybear." I grinned. She threw the spatula at me.

Yeah. She loves me, I can tell.

**-**

My name is Naruto Uzumaki. I'm twenty-six years old, and I live in an apartment in an area of New York City called Konoha.

I share apartment 7A with my beautiful ex-wife Sakura Haruno, who means the world to me. If she wanted me to jump out of the window from our seventh floor apartment, I'd do it for her. Of course, I'd prefer a valid reason for jumping, but I'd do it all the same. Our marriage was a bit of a mistake, but not one I regret particularly. Sakura is my family, and for an orphan like me, that means a lot.

I'm a history teacher who sometimes teaches Lit at Konoha High School, much to the delight of my (best) neighbor (in the world) Kakashi, who thinks he's Shakespeare's modern incarnate. I sometimes get Kakashi's porn magazines in my mailbox, which is next to his downstairs in the lobby, and on those occasions, I will throw it at his head, and I will usually not miss.

Sometimes, Sakura's boss at hospital, Tsunade, comes to visit us, and as Tsunade has all but adopted me, she hits me around just like Sakura does. She's the mother that _didn't _disappear on me, and she comes around for dinner at least once a month.

My boss Jiraiya, head of the Social Studies department at Konoha H.S., pops in from time to time, too, but those times generally involve a good amount of beer and Sakura hits me every time I bring one of those visits up.

Other times, my junior high school homeroom teacher Iruka Umino, who kept in touch with me all these years, feels some sort of parental-like love for me too, and is the closest thing I have to a father, visits us. Iruka comes by every other week and he makes sure Sakura and me are all right.

Once in a while, Tsunade, Iruka, and Jiraiya show up at the same time, and then we _all_ have dinner together.

As for other friends, I have plenty. Plenty who would give me the shirt off their backs, and plenty who I would do the same for without question. I used to be so alone in the world, and now I'm not.

And as for love, Sakura and I hadn't found the right kind with each other, but we're okay with that, really. She's been dating around lately, and I really hope she finds The One. Capital 'T' and 'O' and everything.

And me, well, this was my life, and I didn't think it would change. I was happy.

My name is Naruto Uzumaki, and I thought I was happy. Until Sasuke Uchiha came along and blew 'happy' out of the water.

**-**

Author's note: It's short, it's terrible, but it's a beginning. If you made it here, if you liked it, please drop a line. Please, someone tell me what I'm doing.

And if you're a _Jim steele _reviewer… I love you people. Just, really.

Thanks for reading. Comments would be very much appreciated.


	2. act one, scene one

Disclaimer: I don't own Masashi Kishimoto's manga/anime Naruto, nor do I own any of William Shakespeare's plays, poetry, or words.  
Genres: Humor, romance, drama  
Rating: PG13/T to R/M  
Warnings: Boy/boy, boy/girl, girl/girl, profanity, intimacy, mild mature themes

Summary: Falling in love after divorce is one thing. Falling in love with your ex-wife's new boyfriend is another.

Author's note: Obviously, my loves, I have not shot myself. Yet.

You know… after posting the prologue… something smacked me. Like… reality. Like… shit-I-need-a-plot.

But, compared to this crap, the prologue was brilliant. And brilliant it wasn't. Should I beg forgiveness yet?

(Don't shoot me.)

-

**Love, Shakespeare**  
_act one, scene one._

_-_

"Why'd you have to go make things so complicaaated? See the way you're acting like somebody else gets me frustraaated!"

I sing when showering. Badly.

While my sweet honeybear was duct-taping our fridge shut until we could call an exterminator, I had decided to take a shower because my t-shirt had been sticking to my sweaty back after the epic Naruto vs. Fungus battle. (Also because my honeybear had told me bluntly that I smelled bad.)

And yes, I promised Sakura that we could spend the Sunday evening with Rocky Road ice cream and chick flicks on the couch. Y'know, after I emerged squeaky-clean. But she didn't really listen to the "after" part.

I was halfway through my shower, suds still in my wet blond hair, when the bathroom door opened. I stuck my head out and peered outside the shower curtains, and sure enough-

"Sakura, I'm in the shower!" I hissed.

"I know," she said agreeably, sitting down on top of the closed toilet lid and crossing her slender legs.

"Meaning, Naruto is WET and NAKED," I said loudly.

"I know," she repeated. And then added thoughtfully, "Probably pretty soapy too."

"Yes, that's the idea-"

"I finished securing the fridge. It'd take a nuclear warhead to get through it now," she told me cheerfully.

"Great, but-"

"I wanted someone to talk to," she said mildly. And I knew that was the end of it, that (any more of) my (rather lame) protests would be merrily ignored.

I am one whipped ex.

"Okay, honeybear, shoot."

"If you keep calling me that, I really will shoot _you_," she said sweetly.

My naked self shuddered. "Uh huh…" I said vaguely, gulping. "What is it that you want to talk about?"

"_Men_." She enunciated slowly and venomously.

"Err…"

"Naruto, why do I keep getting dumped by all these guys? Is it me? Or is the whole of the male population _completely_ stupid and _vulgar_ and they're all jerks who can't remember to call when they're going to be late and all they're interested is in-"

Sakura fiddled with a square of toilet paper for a few seconds before vengefully shredding it into a million Angel Soft pieces. (Comfort where you want it!)

I stared in morbid fascination at the little toilet paper bits fluttering from her fingers.

"-is getting into my pants! And what right do they have to even _think_ about that? It's only the second date, and staring at my butt is _not_ a replacement for intelligent conversation! Men! All of them! Stupid ass-"

I coughed weakly.

She blinked. "…holes. Oh, Naruto. You know I'm not talking about you." She smiled at me. And abruptly made a polar mood switch again-

Did I dare venture a mention of PMS? No, sirree. Even I'm not that dumb… anymore.

"But they're all so- so- goddamn full of themselves- and so- so- _insensitive_! I mean, is it _too much_ for a girl to ask-"

I withdrew my head from where I was poking it out from the shower and continued listening as I rinsed the shampoo from my head…

"-pigs!-"

… washed the suds from my body…

"-idiots!-"

… checked the cleanliness of that space behind my ears…

"-imbeciles!"

… turned off the water in time to hear a very softly uttered:

"…What's wrong with me?"

I stood there, naked and still dripping wet in the shower stall, frowning. "Nothing's- _nothing_- wrong with you. At all. Um. I'd tell you that you were gorgeous and brilliant and all that, but um, you already know that I think that… and um-" _shit this stuff was hard…_ "It's not your fault at all. Any guy would be lucky to have you." I managed sincerely. "And I'm completely serious. I swear."

Silence on the other side of the shower curtain.

Then, an amused Sakura pulled aside the shower curtains.

Nekkid Naruto in all his glory squeaked and covered his manly bits with the shampoo bottle.

She grinned.

"You're _laughing_ at me." I accused. She smiled and shrugged, as if to say 'What else is new?' I groaned and clutched the shampoo bottle closer.

"You're sweet." She told me. "And you're an idiot, but you're sweet, anyway." She smiled at me fondly and kissed my cheek before heading out of the bathroom. From the hallway I heard her ask, rhetorically: "How'd I get you to marry me, anyway?"

"I was young. And stupid." I mumbled, stepping out of the shower and reaching for a fluffy towel to wrap around my waist.

Sakura unexpectedly poked her head back into the doorway. I almost dropped my towel. She narrowed her eyes at me and informed me: "I heard that."

"Eh-heh-heh… heard what?"

-

When I got out of the shower, I found my lovely ex-wife at the telephone, with the thick yellow phonebook in front of her, turned to "Exterminators."

"- so you guys can do this? Mhm… yes, well… mhm… we _think_ it's fungus, but I don't recall if fungi are supposed to be mobile creatures…" Sakura smiled and waved a little when she caught sight of me- this time manly bits covered properly by my boxers and torso clad in a fresh white tee, before returning to the conversation, "uh-hum. Oh yes, I believe it's sufficiently contained-"

I glanced into the kitchen, only to find that when Sakura said she finished duct-taping the fridge, she really meant that she _cocooned_ it with duct-tape, electric tape, painter's tape, _and_ even a couple inches ofScotch tape to hold up a paper that upon which was scrawled a warning among the lines _Don't open if you value your life. _

"Yes… mhm. We can wait until Tuesday… six-o-clock is fine… uhum 7A, yes- no, I won't be home, but a Mr. Uzumaki will be here… yes. Thank you." Sakura hung up and turned to me.

"An exterminator will be here this Tuesday and he's going to take care of your college buddy," Sakura informed me, gesturing towards our fridge.

"And I guess I'll have deal with the dude? Make nice and make sure he doesn't get eaten or anything, right?" I grumbled half-heartedly.

"Don't be lazy, Mr. I-have-summer-off."

(Did I mention that it was mid-August? That it was halfway through my second solid month of vacation? It's great, I know.)

"Now, Sakura, you can't hold that against me," I told her, grinning. "Besides, I have to deal with a bunch of teenagers September to June- and they are a dangerous, exotic species. Hormonal, too."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "You _like_ dealing with dangerous, exotic, hormonal things. You think _women_ are dangerous, exotic, hormonal things," she pointed out.

Indeed I do. "And what can I say? I love women." I said, shrugging nonchalantly. Man, Jiraiya (remember my oh-so- perverted boss?) was really rubbing off on me.

And then Sakura was giving me the dagger glare.

Eep. So I hastily added, "-and kids, of course, I love teaching and enlightening young minds."

"Good boy," Sakura said dryly.

I shot a dazzlingly innocent smile in her direction, inching backwards. I was about to creep my way out of the room until my honeybear whipped out something from behind her back with astounding speed. It took me a second to recognize the whipped-out object, and another second to hold down the groan. _The Lake House_ DVD was being waved at me. And Sakura had a look on her face. Yep. A _look_.

"Your evening is _mine_ remember?" she reminded me cheerily.

Ah. Yes. _The Lake House_. Sandra Bullock, Keanu Reeves, and a whole lot of metaphysical mailbox shit.

"Right. I was… going to get the ice cream."

-

I was at our kitchen island scooping the Rocky Road into two bowls- one for me, one for my honeybear- when unexpectedly, I heard someone knocking on our apartment door. "Coming!" I shouted to our visitor. And "I'll get it!" to Sakura.

Actually, there was no need for either yell, because Kakashi apparently let himself in and popped himself into our kitchen where I was just about to leave the ice cream bowls.

"Yo." He held up one hand in greeting.

"… Kakashi? Er, hi. But I could've sworn I locked the front door..." I said suspiciously, eyeing my silver-haired, one-eyed, half-face-covered neighbor. It's hard to tell with the whole mysterious man-behind-mask thing, but I'm pretty sure he smiled at me. Sort of.

"Mad ninja skills." He said simply.

I blinked. "What?"

"Mad ninja skills." He repeated, more slowly this time.

"No, I heard, but what I meant was _what?_"

"I am not bound to please thee with my answers," Kakashi said mildly.

To think adults like Kakashi guided my impressionable young years. It was practically a miracle me and Sakura aren't royally messed up in the head. Or something.

I huffed. "All right, all right, no need to go Elizabethan on me. So why are you here?"

"A piece of your mail was caught in my _Icha Icha _magazine. I'd thought I'd drop in on my former students, say hi, do the neighborly thing." Kakashi said pleasantly, sliding an envelope across the countertop. I tilted my head sideways to read the envelope.

"Actually, it's Sakura's," Kakashi added.

The envelope was addressed to "Sakura Uzumaki". The name looked familiar, but so foreign at the same time. _Sakura Uzumaki_. A little something from the past that somehow found its way to the here and now. I don't really know how it made me felt. Just… weird, I guess. I looked up and found Kakashi was watching me.

Teachers always do have a soft spot for their students even after they've graduated, after they've grown up. Even if they wouldn't admit it.

I should know.

And God, maybe I was the one in need of Rocky Road ice cream.

I swallowed hard and kept it light hearted. "Fancy envelope." I remarked. And it was. Stiff and cream-colored, it was embossed with a shining dark stylized _U_. I guessed it was an invite to something, probably some snobby-ass rich-people event. "Um. You can leave it here."

I looked to the envelope and to the two ice cream bowls on the counter and back to my high school English teacher. "…D'you want ice cream? Actually- me and Sakura were about to-"

"Naru- Oh! Mr. Hatake!" Sakura looked fairly surprised from where she was coming through the doorway to find Kakashi in our kitchen.

"Now, now, Sakura. I'm no longer your English teacher. In fact, I'm your neighbor. So it's Kakashi." Kakashi reprimanded.

"Sorry, Kakashi, old habits die hard." Sakura smiled. "Actually, would you like to watch a movie with me and Naruto? Ice cream, too."

Kakashi paused.

"C'mon, dude." I leaned across the island and slugged him lightly in the arm. "You don't have a date tonight or anything, right? So take a break from the porn, and join us in a chick-flick fest." I flashed a thumbs-up at him and winked. I think he groaned.

I helped Sakura drag Kakashi into the living room, and from my side, I whispered fiercely in his ear, "If I have to watch Bullock and Reeves get mushy and confuse the hell out of me with their time-traveling letters, you're going to suffer with me."

I thought I heard Kakashi mutter something I didn't quite catch. But he let Sakura sit him on our bright blue couch and I went back into the kitchen to fill a third bowl with ice cream, and then bring the three bowls to our little happy chick-flick fest. I left the envelope on the kitchen island, in the dark, as I flipped the light switch down.

-

"I'd be gay for Keanu Reeves." Kakashi remarked as the end credits rolled by.

I stared at him. "_What?_"

Sakura defended him. "No, no. He's right. If I were a guy, I think I'd still find Keanu attractive." She hugged a pillow to her, still sighing over the sheer sap factor the movie.

"But Kakashi's the one with all the porn!" I exclaimed. "You know-" A realization dawned on me and I groaned. "But it's not all _straight_ porn, is it?"

Kakashi merely smiled- I _think_ he smiled. "Love is love is love," he reminded me.

I threw a couch pillow at him. "You mean sex is sex is sex."

Not that I'm homophobic. Oh no, not at all. Really, really not at all. By the way, homophobia is rather frowned upon in NYC. I mean, last month the next neighborhood over was decked out in rainbows for pride parade. Sakura and I went to check it out, too. We now both have PRIDE 07 t-shirts.

But just… it was _Kakashi_. It reveals a whole other percentage of the population that he probably horizontally tango'ed with on the other side of my bedroom wall. Oh, boy.

"I need a Keanu Reeves," Sakura sighed from the other corner of the couch. (Kakashi was between us.) Kakashi looked over my way and we did the male eyebrow-raises-nod-in-response communication. 'Boy trouble?' 'Oh yes.'

A silence, and then-

"I wouldn't worry about it, Sakura," Kakashi said lightly. "Look at you. You've turned out all right."

Aww.

That might sound casual. And the words would have sounded like a fairly meaningless sentiment, bordering on chilly even, had it not come from _Kakashi_'s mouth, at _this _moment. And all three of us heard the unspoken "more than" before "all right." Especially Sakura, who dropped the pillow and opted to hug our old teacher instead, sniffling out a 'thank you'.

Over Sakura's shoulder, I saw Kakashi's eye widen, and I smiled. A little smugly, I must admit. It wasn't often that we could surprise Kakashi. It was one of those things we couldn't do on purpose.

Aww.

But while I love this squishy-sappy stuff just as much as the next guy, I decided it was getting a little too mushy for me. I mean, after two hours of the time-warping love letters and kissing and all things _The Lake House_, I figured that we had enough of the warm and fuzzy feelings.

I figured that Kakashi needed some rescuing, too.

I leaned back and crossed my arms behind my head. "Honeybear, you really need to stop strangling Kakashi. I know breathing is overrated, but- urgh! Sakura!"

Sakura slipped off Kakashi and latched on to me instead. "I wasn't strangling him, it was _hugging_." She explained patiently from her position on my lap. "And don't try to play like you don't care," she scolded. "Not after what you said in the shower."

"I'm sure I don't want to know," Kakashi put in pleasantly. I swear, even if I can't see his mouth, I just _know_ he's smiling. Not in the warm-and-fuzzy way, either.

We put the Tomato Queen to shame when we blanched and turned red at Kakashi's remark. "Not like that!" we shouted at him. Sakura added a muttered, "Pervert," and blushing, she slid off me and flopped limply back on the couch at my side, crossing her arms.

"You know what, honeybear? You go right on and continue strangling Kakashi."

"_Hugging_."

"Whatever."

-

In the summer, I usually wake up really, really late. My alarm clock stands on the bedside table lonely and unused for all of July and August, and by the time I do pull myself out of bed, the apartment is already empty because Sakura is at work. That usually means I can drink out of the OJ carton without getting yelled at. And leave my bed stuff messy and unmade. And other lazy and pleasant just-cuz-she's-not-there things.

Yeah. Sleeping in rocks.

I woke up the morning after our _The Lake House _rendezvous when I felt the sunlight warm on my eyelids. Unfortunately, even after twenty-six years of existence, I still hadn't learned. Learned what? Well, to avoid doing what I did next: opening my eyes directly to the sun, temporarily blinding myself, thrashing and falling off my bed and onto the hardwood floor.

Hello, dust bunnies under Naruto's bed. Good morning to you too.

"Mnlargh."

Never one to be down long, I pushed myself off of the floor and padded lazily to the bathroom. After I brushed my teeth, I peered into the mirror and wondered if it was worth prodding my blond hair into something resembling not-a-mess. Nah. Not happening.

It was ten thirty, or so said the hallway clock, as I walked past on my way to grab something for breakfast.

As I made my way through the kitchen doorway, I spared a glance at the fridge. It rattled ominously in salutation. "Good morning to you too," I muttered.

I thought about the milk jug in the fridge. I looked at the fridge door taped firmly shut, thanks to Sakura's efforts. Cereal wasn't going to be an option this morning. No orange juice to drink, nor butter for my toast, not even an egg to scramble. I sighed as I slumped into a stool next to the kitchen island.

Where there was a note. And a list. I blinked.

My lovely honeybear never fails to indirectly take care of me. Even when she's at work. The note read:

_Naruto,_

_See, when you slack off and let fungal species invade our fridge, your breakfast options become a bit limited, no? _

_There's oatmeal on the stove, and there's water in the teapot. After breakfast, why don't you be a dear and do the grocery shopping? I left the list with this note. Put the perishables in Kakashi's fridge, for now._

_Have a nice day! _

She added a smiley face. The smile was kind of wonky, though. Like the thing was mocking me. Because- eww, oatmeal. And if it was cooked by Sakura? No offense to my honeybear, but that meant that it was dubious at best. She wasn't really known for producing edible meals.

I ambled over to the stove and lifted the lid off the pot where the oatmeal presumably was. It didn't look _too_ bad.

Okay, maybe I'm being a little too kind here.

It honestly looked like a smaller, beige cousin of Mr. Fungus there in the fridge. At least it didn't gurgle…

I sighed and figured that I'd just eat it out of the pot. With some dry Cheerios on the side. I dug out a spoon from somewhere and stuck it in Sakura's version of breakfast and tried moving the oatmeal around. Well. 'Tried.' I mean, it moved, but it moved like it had the consistency of cement.

I scooped up some of the stuff and moved it to my mouth. And into my mouth. And I swallowed it.

Promptly choked.

And died.

What a woeful tale! What a tragedy!

…And, I'm getting carried away. What actually transpired was that I ended ladling the hardly edible substance into the trashcan, thus successfully avoiding the (possible) gluing up of my esophagus. Breakfast actually became a gleeful affair as I re-boiled the water and promptly pulled an instant ramen cup out from my super secret stash.

Yum.

Slurp.

Yum.

My day was beginning _well_.

-

Of course, the very worst days in your life begin well.

I would realize later that the envelope that Kakashi brought in the night before had been missing from the kitchen island, where I had left it. I would shrug and know that Sakura must have seen it on her way out that morning, that she must have taken it, and I would dismiss it without further thought.

Stupid, stupid Naruto.

Naruto should have shredded the damn envelope the second Kakashi handed it over. Naruto should have blender'd it, lawnmower'd it, flushed it down the toilet, boiled it with his ramen, etcetera etcetera. But nope, fate just _couldn't _have given me magic future-seeing powers, and I had let the envelope gone on un-mauled.

Stupid, stupid Naruto.

-

Ever obedient, I headed out after breakfast, grocery list in hand. I figured my local supermarket would do the trick. I guess I'll skip over how I let the shopping cart get a little out of control, and how a canned tomatoes tower almost fell and rendered me an invalid… You see, I would have gotten myself banned out of every Waldbaums Supermarket in the tri-state area if I hadn't bumped into my good friend Neji, if he hadn't happened to know the manager.

Lucky me.

Yeah well, lucky me almost got run over three times on the way home.

I was hugging the brown jumbo paper bag of groceries to my chest when one of those infamous yellow taxis decided to ignore the yellow traffic light warning just as I was crossing the street. What resulted was that: he honked at me, screamed at me in accented English, and I ended up running for my life to the opposite corner.

The second time, I was almost hit when one of those Toyota Sequoias- you know, the gas guzzling behemoth of a vehicle- driven by a completely distracted mother who parked a little too violently and drove a couple feet onto the sidewalk. She apologized though. But one of her kids smiled maliciously from the back seat window, cackling his little head off. 'Look, Mommy almost ran over someone!' Little snot.

The third time was a sleek black BMW. Whatever rich ass snob sitting in _that_ car had made a turn without looking for pedestrians and that time, I really was _this _close- as in two fucking inches close- to ending up in the E.R. and having a little impromptu visit to my honeybear.

Two inches. Two fucking inches. "Scared-shitless" is the term.

A couple seconds later, the term was "pissed-off".

"Bastard!" I yelled, thumping on the hood of the BMW.

Every time I use the word 'bastard', I inevitably think of Sasuke Uchiha. Kind of weird, because I hadn't seen the bastard since we were seventeen and graduating high school. But then again, Sasuke really _was_ a bastard, and we hated each other with unnatural ferocity, so maybe it's not that weird.

I mean, there was also the fact that Sakura (and the rest of the female, and even some of the male, population) had been in love with him; _that_ certainly did not help him in my evaluation of his character.

So it was no different when I saw Sasuke Uchiha's smirking face in my mind's eye when I shouted that particular obscenity at the careless driver. Except that it was. Different, I mean.

The BMW's dark tinted windows rolled down and I got myself the first good look at the guy who had nearly killed me.

And well, holy shit.

"Watch where you're going," a smirk, "_usuratonkachi_." Lo and behold, Sasuke Uchiha.

I gaped.

-

Karma fucking hates me.

Stupid, stupid Naruto.

-

Author's note: 3500 plus words of utter nonsense. I feel so accomplished.

By the way my loves, you completely blew me away with the amount of _substantial _reviews. And you know there's a difference. Thank you all, especially _Jim steele _line droppers- _Dualism, redstrawberry-chan_, _The Writer you fools_, _Cleo Noir_, _schlimazel_. Thanks especially to RS-chan for her friendship and encouragement.

A couple people mentioned that they got here via _Dualism_. (Thank you, Dual! For the unexpected promotion.) How many of you got here through _Dualism_? There's an unexpected amount of Kingdom Hearts people hovering around.

And lastly, as the title is _Love, Shakespeare_…

I'll write you a drabble/ficlet if you know: "I am not bound to please thee with my answers." From which work of Shakespeare's did I pull that?


	3. act one, scene two

Disclaimer: I don't own Masashi Kishimoto's manga/anime Naruto, nor do I own any of William Shakespeare's plays, poetry, or words.  
Genres: Humor, romance, drama  
Rating: PG13/T to R/M  
Warnings: Boy/boy, boy/girl, girl/girl, profanity, intimacy, mild mature themes

Summary: Falling in love after divorce is one thing. Falling in love with your ex-wife's new boyfriend is another.

Author's note: Um... should I grovel?

Also, I should have also disclaimed the lyrics to Avril Lavigne's "Complicated," which Naruto was singing in the shower. And the line "I'd be gay for Keanu Reeves" is not of my creation, but rather my own he-rocks-so-hard neighbor.

For _Ishimaru Tsukiyo_, because really, I'm terrible but she puts up with me. Much love for her.

-

**Love, Shakespeare  
**_act one, scene two._

-

Even in the face of having been within _inches_ of a bloody and painful predicament, I, Naruto Uzumaki, can proudly say I handled the situation with grace and impressive composure.

…

You don't believe me?

…

Fine. _Fine. _I lied.

-

"You-! You-!" I shrieked. A really, really _manly_ shriek, though. (No, seriously.)

"Me." Sasuke Uchiha replied dryly, in that careless kind of way that always made me mad as _hell._

Because you know what? I _remember_ that prissy, pasty-ass Sasuke Uchiha. _Vividly_.

Do you know _why_? Ladies and gentlemen, I present you… Sasuke Uchiha. Bastard _extraordinaire_.

Please, feel free to boo Sasuke-bastard. No, I'm serious, go ahead. Don't let me stop you.

Sasuke-_bastard_ is, yes, his _official _title. At least, it is as far as I'm concerned.

I don't care what his last name is, what his last name _means_ and how it gets legions of people (including hot chicks) to throw themselves at his feet. I don't care. I don't care how much money he makes, how expensive his Armani suit is, nor how many BMWs he has to choose from when he wants to run over _innocent schoolteachers out shopping for groceries_.

Because you know what? Sasuke equals bastard for me. No, really, it's a simple equation.

That guy was the _bane_ of my high school existence, who liked to piss me off, Monday through Friday without _fail_. He caused me to invent fifty new shades of red (and fifty new swear words) every time I got angry with him. Which, of course, was often. Sasuke Uchiha was my arch-nemesis, my greatest rival, the villain to my hero. (And _psh_. Of course I was the _hero_.)

Fun fact: Sasuke-bastard was also the sole recipient of that Naruto-wants-to-shove-your-stupid-smirking-face-in-a-public-toilet-and-_flush-_damnit feeling. Um, sharing this because I know you've all felt _that _urge before.

Or maybe you think I'm crazy. That this vendetta I have against him is stupid and petty and inane, but whatever.

Sasuke, he just- well- he just made me _so mad_.

And now, well-

If I hadn't had my arms full of groceries, I would have flailed them violently, as Sakura tells me I tend to do when I get agitated. In retrospect, having groceries in my arms at that moment probably saved my last shred of dignity. (Ha. Dignity. Naruto Uzumaki has dignity?) (…Yes he does, thank you very much.) Because flailing around in front of your mortal enemy was _not_ the cool thing to do.

Instead I hugged the brown bag tightly and spluttered, "The _first _time I see your stupid face in ten _blessed _years- you almost- you almost _run me over_!" Because _that_ was the cool thing to do. Not.

The bastard stared at me coolly, unimpressed.

I, very maturely, stuck my tongue out at him.

-

And well, fuck, this is the scary part, guys.

-

I knew he glared, he smirked, he frowned- and often, too. I knew _that_ Sasuke Uchiha very well. Sasuke's moods were, like, one, _grumpy_ asshole; two, _silent_ asshole; and three, moody little _bitch_. And all of his moods included the inclination to insult Naruto, humiliate Naruto, torment Naruto. Whenever it was convenient. And sometimes when it wasn't.

And though I know all of it entertained him, sort of, but not once did I ever see Sasuke Uchiha _smile_, not once did I ever hear Sasuke Uchiha _laugh_. Because he was one stoic bastard, and though everyone else did, he had _never _laughed at me.

So it scared the shit out of me when it happened, that moment.

Sasuke Uchiha laughed at me, he really did.

_Laughed_. It wasn't a long laugh, nor was it a particularly loud one; it was soft and amused- and just… _whoa_.

And then he stopped, gave me a strange sort of smirk, and drove away.

"… well, fuck." I said aloud, wonderingly. And I wondered why I wasn't more pissed off.

So I was standing there, still in the street, holding my bag of groceries, half-dazed, and _so_ confused. I don't see the bastard in ten years, and in five minutes, he's managed to almost-kill me, insult me, and- well, the guy just _messed _with my perception of the world. Because Sasuke Uchiha laughs, and I'm not thinking of ways to kick his ass- what's left that's true, really?

And the good people of Manhattan should have been wondering about the idiot who's just standing there in the middle of the street, I guess. But the good people of Manhattan are used to weirdoes, and let weirdo no. 3,409,891, also known as Naruto Uzumaki… well, they let me be.

-

After that, I was just hanging out at our flat, lounging on our terribly comfortable couch, trying not to think about _thatbastard_, when:

_Work it!  
Make it!  
Do it!  
Makes us harder, better, faster, stronger!  
_

My god, don't you love my ring tone?

And if you're wondering why on earth I let my cell phone rap every time a call comes in? I'm going to recommend- _Don't ask._

"Mmmmnlargh." I grumbled. "I don't wanna find my phone…" I whined to myself, burying my head into one of the couch pillows.

But alas…

_N-n-now that don't kill me  
Can only make me stronger  
I need you to hurry up now  
Cause I can't wait much longer_

"No… go away…"

_I know I got to be right now  
Cause I can't get much wronger  
Man I been waitin' all night now  
That's how long I've been on ya_

"Gaahhh…" (_I need ya right now!_) "Shut up…"

_Work it!  
__Make it!  
__Do-_

"FINE. You win, Kanye. You win." I rolled off the couch and groped around for my phone. Which was somewhere. Singing _Work it! Make it! Do it!_ …gah.

And then Lady Luck decided that, hey, let's give the poor dude a break, because the guy's only been almost-killed today by his arch nemesis. And thus, Lady Luck said unto Naruto Uzumaki, here is your phone, I will grace your ears with a call from-

"Hey, honeybear!" I said brightly into my now-located phone.

"_Don't call me that_."

I couldn't repress a grin. "Yuuuh-huh." I flopped lazily back onto the couch. "Hey, Sakura, you'll never _guess_ what happen-"

She cut me off. "Oh, Naruto, you can tell me that later…" Sakura said quickly. Odd, she sounded like she was in a hurry, or something. I ruminated over this for a minute, and I guess I spaced out, because by the time I realized she was talking again, I only caught: "-amba Juice, kay?"

"Okay." I answered without thinking.

… Wait, what? "Huh?"

And all I heard was Sakura saying, "See-you-in-fifteen-bye." And that was it. She hung up on me.

I blinked.

Wondered aloud, "-the _hell_ just happened?"

Blink, blink, blink. And then an unexpected- and I mean, _really_ unexpected- source of enlightenment… enlightened me.

"You're due at Jamba Juice in thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds."

Well, holy_fuck_. I promptly fell off the couch, and my head turned around to look at my window- where the voice was coming from- so fast I swear there was whiplash.

To find, of course, Kakashi waving at me from where he perched, _outside_ my window. On the fire escape. Outside _my _window.

Do you get how _weird _this is?

No? His apartment is on the same floor as mine, his own fire escape is on the _opposite _side of the building. To get to _my_ fire escape, he had to break into my apartment and cross the living room, which I was occupying, unlock the window and crawl out, _without my noticing_. I was on the couch the whole time! And I _so_ know that Kakashi was in his own apartment half an hour ago, when I borrowed his fridge for the groceries I bought this morning.

The guy either had an invisibility cloak or he rappelled down from the roof, _four stories up_. Or maybe he was SpiderMan or something and _swung_ there.

Don't look at me like that. I'm just tossing out some possibilities.

I stare at him, hard. Maybe he'd disappear, too. Magically. If I stare hard enough.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," I finally said, flatly, once it became clear that Kakashi was not going to pull a Harry Potter style Disapparation on me.

Kakashi shrugged. "Twelve minutes and fifty-four seconds, Naruto."

"_How _did you manage to _hear_ that?"

"Mad ninj-"

I covered my ears with my hands and groaned.

"Oh god no. Never mind." With that, I knew that Kakashi had officially fried the rest of my brain. Which was already short circuited this morning by _thatbastard_, thank you very much. I didn't need his _mad-ninja-skillz-yo! _excuse. Really, I didn't.

And um-um-um. What was I doing, again? I was trying to… um, let's see…

…

…

"You're supposed to be at Jamba Juice with your ex-wife."

…

I blinked madly. Blink, blink. "HOLY SHIT, DID YOU JUST READ MY _MIND_?"

He merely informed me: "Twelve minutes and seven seconds."

Kakashi is _so_ unnerving.

-

Jamba Juice, ladies and gentlemen, is this wonderful place with brightly painted _orange _walls and the best damn smoothies, ever. Go check out a Jamba Juice today, provided that you're willing to fork over five for some fruity heaven-in-a-cup. And yeah, that sounded a little more commercial than Naruto Uzumaki intended. He apologizes.

Jamba Juice in Tribeca, NYC, was also the place where Sakura told me to meet her. Or, Sakura told me, I didn't hear, and then Kakashi nearly gave me coronary thrombosis as he tried to get the message across to me. Yay.

"Damnit, Kakashi, fucking around with my mind is _not_ okay," I muttered, as I strode briskly down West Broadway to Jamba Juice. If my crazy ex-Lit teacher is wrong, and my lovely ex-wife isn't here, then I so swear that the psycho is _so_-

… right. He was right.

… Damn.

Sakura waved at me through the glass, and I smiled and went in.

"Yo," I greeted, pulling out a chair for myself at Sakura's table and plopping myself down. Sakura nodded 'hello' and held out her cup to offer me some of her açaí smoothie, which I declined. Because, after all, smoothie sharing wasn't exactly why she asked me to come here.

(… I think.)

"Sakura, what did you need to tell me?" Yeah. I agree. I am rather blunt sometimes.

"Naruto, I just wanted you to know I wasn't going to be home this Friday until late."

Um, okay. "Um, okay, Sakura. But it's only Monday."

"Er, yeah. Um, I thought I'd just give time to you know, digest that." She smiled at me in what I _think_ was meant to be a reassuring way. But she wasn't doing a really good job with it, and she only makes me nervous when she does this.

I blinked. (I seemed to be doing that a lot, lately.) Then, I asked curiously, "Wait, why are you going to be out late, again?"

A pause.

"Because I'm… going to a gala on Friday. A gala hosted by one of the hospital's patrons. A work thing. Sort of." And when Sakura's sentences got progressively shorter, I got even _more_ nervous. I hoped it wasn't something serious that she didn't want to tell me. I hoped it was one of those things that Sakura was just being paranoid about.

Naruto Uzumaki did _not _need drama.

And so, very cautiously, I asked: "… Why would I need time to _digest_ that, Sakura?"

"Because you hate that sort of thing," she said lightly. "Not that I'm going to ask you to come with me this time, or anything."

And _ouch_. That kind of stung.

But I was just being oversensitive, because I knew Sakura didn't mean it like that, never means it like that.

Though-

"I wouldn't interfere with your social life, Sakura," I said, finally. What, did she think I would disapprove of it, not let her go or something? Christ, I'm not a wicked stepmother or anything. I frowned at that, and I guess she saw it.

"No, not like that! It's just that, I wanted to discuss this with you as soon as possible," she tried, but I still didn't really _get_ what she was talking about, at all. Sakura sighed, because she knew that I didn't _get_ it. "It's just that, I know Friday is our hangout time, whenever we're both single."

"Which we both are, unless you're _really_ hiding something from me, honeybear," I replied half-playfully, "But it's okay, it's not like it's never been cancelled before."

If that was the extent of it all, well then, okay. So I was going to be moping alone for a couple hours on Friday night. And maybe Sakura was a little guilty for abandoning me Friday, for some fancy-schmancy thing. I still didn't get what the big deal was, and I guess Sakura noted that too.

And so she finally reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope, one that I easily and readily recognized.

She slid it across the small tabletop and I picked it up slowly, to look at it. Again. It was the cream-colored envelope, the one that Kakashi brought over last night. The one with _Sakura Uzumaki_ on it (and there goes that disconnected ache in my chest again). The one with the _U_ embossed elegantly on its front. And under it, what I hadn't bothered reading before: _U. Corporations, 278 Stratford Avenue, NY, NY 10282_.

"What's… this?"

"The invite to the gala."

"…Oh." I fingered the envelope's flap for a second and then pulled the stiff paper upwards. There was a card that fit precisely inside. I paused, fingers on the card. "…And?"

"Just read it, please." And I could feel those pretty green eyes of hers on me.

I tugged the card from its envelope, and I didn't need to look much further from first couple lines.

Sure, the mysterious U. Corporations was typed neatly there, but there was also a name under it that made the company, well, not so mysterious. And I guess you've all figured it out by now, because you guys aren't like stupid, stupid Naruto.

Because, of course, it's the name _Sasuke Uchiha _that's typed there.

-

It was an hour later when with me having returned home and Sakura having gone back to the hospital that:

_Work it!  
Make it!  
Do i-_

Ah, Kanye.

After a quick glance at caller ID- and really, who else calls me so often anyway- I answered my cell phone with: "Honeybear?"

Over the line, I _heard_ her take a breath and I knew I was in for some long string of words. Sakura didn't disappoint, either. She never does. "_Naruto_, I was trying to call you before, but this is my first spare moment from my shift, and are you-"

"I'm not mad, at all," I cut her off before she could start babbling.

Lost cause.

She started babbling anyway, and I tuned out, even though I shouldn't have, and perhaps I was running the risk of having Kakashi poking his mask-covered nose into my phone conversations again. I had a fairly good idea about what she was babbling about anyway.

And after a while, after I thought she got it out of her system sufficiently, I tried again.

"I'm _not_ mad, Sakura-chan," I told her. And she stopped for real this time, out of surprise, maybe. Maybe because I haven't called her that in ten or so years. Haven't called her Sakura-chan since the high school Japanese class we had together.

Taking a trip down Memory Lane (yes, you can shoot me for that line), a lot of my attempts at winning Sakura's affections happened in that class. Yeah, fun times. But you know what? That Sasuke-bastard was in our Japanese class, too. And I remember how Sakura blushed every time she passed his desk, and I remember the look on his face every time this happened, and…

God, I _really_ didn't like how my day and thoughts have been revolving around Sasuke-bastard. It's like, the guy showed up out of the blue, nearly _mauled_ me with his expensive car, and now somehow he's involved himself with Sakura, too. The guy had seriously screwed with my day, and probably my week, too, because Sakura was still thinking that I was going to psychopathic on her just because his company was hosting a gala that she was going to.

Right now, she was _still_ giving me an earful, though a gentle one, and I didn't mind as much because her voice can be really pretty and melodic.

I couldn't really blame her for this, not how I reacted.

See, her being worried was my fault, because as soon as I saw his name on the envelope, back in the smoothie place, I _had _started swearing, after all. Vehemently muttering, "_Fucking bastard. What the fuck is this? Fucking karma's fucking punishing me_…" And so on and so forth, and Sakura had no idea why I was this way, because I never did get to tell her how close I was to ending up in her E.R. that morning. So all she saw was Naruto exploding over this.

I had probably looked and sounded like a moron.

Furthermore, I _had_ dropped so many F-bombs that eventually Jamba Juice's bald and burly cashier came over and quietly told me to leave, I was disturbing the other customers. And so I _had _left, grumpy, with Sakura apologizing for and following after me.

So Sakura had guessed I would be upset after all, though not quite right on the reasons. What she thought was (and she told me): "I was worried because I thought you might feel that I'm ditching you for him, or something like that."

And there was an unmentioned "stupid" between the "something" and the "like," and I guess I was a little upset at that too. Because throughout the years, Naruto Uzumaki had grown up, at least a little bit. He's twenty-six now, and he had to.

And I am so capable of thinking reasonably.

I mean, I knew that… well… It wasn't like the bastard sought out Sakura especially, it was something because his family was traditionally patrons of Konoha General, and it was appropriate to invite Sakura because of her rank at the hospital.

Sasuke Uchiha probably didn't even address the envelope; it was probably his secretary who did it. And Sasuke-bastard had no idea that Sakura and I lived together, let alone were _married_ at one point. He had no idea what the relations between me and Sakura were.

The bastard, for once, was innocent of trying to piss me off.

So I was cool with it. I hoped Sakura would believe me the first time I said it, but I wasn't able to convince her.

I wasn't mad about the gala, or the solitary Friday, or even about Sasuke Uchiha, anymore.

And anyway, Sakura needed a night out, whether it was an Uchiha gala or not. She did need something to get her mind off the latest in the line of jerks that I had tried to persuade her from going out with. And well, if she needed a break from me, too-

Oh hell, maybe she was right. Maybe I was sore about being left alone on Friday, and it did sort of feel like being left for Sasuke Uchiha. Again. That's why I lost it in the smoothie place?

_But_ _I'm not angry now_. Truly.

"I'm not mad, promise." I told her again, and maybe she sensed that this _was _the truth- and it was. Because finally, _finally_, she let it be, told me she had to get back to her patients and told me bye, love ya, okay?

Okay, Sakura.

-

When Sakura got home that night, I gave her a hug. Told her that I would have never stopped her from going, or anything. And she nodded and hugged me back, told me okay. I wish she told me she knew. But it was all right, all right.

She also reminded me that tomorrow night I'd have to make sure to let in the fungus-exterminator and I'd have to make sure that the guy isn't accidentally eaten by Mr. Fungus, and that the guy actually got _rid_ of Mr. Fungus.

From the kitchen, the fridge rattled in terror.

-

Because you know, Naruto Uzumaki does not need drama, but drama comes looking for him anyway.

-

Author's note: 3000 plus this time, and disclaiming Kanye West's "Stronger." I am so sorry. Not only is it on the short side, it's _worse_ than what I delivered last time.

I let this sit for two months. (It would probably be sitting if _Hanakage _didn't poke me about it recently.) And I delivered a not-so-great chapter in which Naruto has issues and is contradicting himself left and right.

Ew.

On the other hand, you guys once again blew me away, truly, with the words you spend on me when you're dropping a line in my inbox. Darlings, you rock. Majorly. I love how so many of you are familiar with Shakespeare, leaving quotes and comments, and dears, it was indeed _The Merchant of Venice_. I love how so many of you are taking the time to write these long letters, almost, to me, and thanks for the support, really. Or, the short comments that are really concise but thoughtful- I love it.

Incidentally, I'm going to blatantly advertise the _Naruto x Sasuke. Complementary._ c2.

And lastly, I wonder how shameless it would be if I asked for feedback.

And don't you love my subtlety.


	4. act one, scene three

Disclaimer: I don't own Masashi Kishimoto's manga/anime Naruto, nor do I own any of William Shakespeare's plays, poetry, or words.  
Genres: Humor, romance, drama  
Rating: PG13/T to R/M  
Warnings: Boy/boy, boy/girl, girl/girl, profanity, intimacy, mild mature themes

Summary: Falling in love after divorce is one thing. Falling in love with your ex-wife's new boyfriend is another.

Author's note: _PenCorp_'s comment about flamboyant tastiness kind of made my day. Several months ago.

So who begs for your forgiveness? That, my darlings, would be me. (On another note, there seem to be a bunch of new readers. Hi. Man, I feel _sorry _for you guys. Me? Kind of the worst author in the world.) And as always, thanks go to _Hanakage, Ishimaru Tsukiyo_, _Dualism._

And a warning!

Putting it plainly? My god, it's such a bad chapter. I'll edit it later, bear with me and forgive me.

-

**Love, Shakespeare**  
_act one, scene three._

-

Friday and it all changed.

As in, Naruto Uzumaki got hit by fate and chaos with all the force of a runaway Mack truck.

Because, okay, so. So Sasuke Uchiha was back in town. Yeah, whatever. This city is for strangers. There are _millions _of people here. It would only be too easy to not see him again. Ever. And okay, so Sakura was going to his gala. Well, so what. It only took a little luck for it to be some quick hello-and-goodbye, or maybe a polite how-you've-been and hell, I didn't expect the bastard to actually socialize. And that would be it. I'd never have to see his smirking mug ever again.

And life would go on, right?

It probably would have.

Maybe.

…

But it's a moot point, kiddos, because that is _not_ what happened.

-

Picture this.

The fridge was clear (finally), the groceries were fresh. Sakura just got home.

The sun was shining.

The birds were singing sweetly in a Disney-esque fashion. Except not, because pigeons don't sing.

Pigeons aside, I'm sort of well aware that it's _the _Friday.

…Awkwardness _galore_?

(Okay. Not that it was really _that_ awkward between Sakura and me after that _thing_ we had. You couldn't call it a fight, because it wasn't. I was never angry with her, and she was never angry with me. It was just, you know, a _thing_. And that kind of sounds really scandalous, but hey, we're ex-spouses _living together_. That kind of thing just bounces off us now. Our problems consisted of just these occasional _things._)

Yeah. Sakura just got home, and I've never seen her so excited for one of those damned social functions. Cinderella going to her ball, almost. She called me into her room, asked me to help her.

So I did.

And well.

Bedroom, hers.

She was fixing her earrings, I was fiddling awkwardly with the clasp of her silver necklace. And I couldn't help but notice our reflections. It reminded me of the difference between the two of us, how clear it was when we stood next to each other like this.

People, she was _radiant_. In just every sense of the word. The very feminine smoke-colored dress, the delicate silver filigree thing around her slim pale neck – just ornaments, the way she wore them. You looked at _her_. Just… beautiful, yeah? I never had a problem saying so, but _really_. And she was smiling. In that shyly pleased way, the way women do when they know they look good and hey, why wouldn't she? She had every reason.

But next to her? Just a guy – that's me. Just me with messy blond hair and my college t-shirt that looks like I just found it on the bedroom floor, that guy who looks like he's kind of wandering aimlessly throughout life. Next to her, I just looked like a random fellow plucked off the streets, a nobody who got dropped off next to a princess.

Well. Yeah.

The thing was, she always made me half-think _She's too good for me_.

"Well, how do I look?"

"Nice," I said casually.

She gave me a slightly pleading look, and I had to laugh. Women.

"Okay, okay, _pretty _nice." I amended slyly, putting my hands behind my head.

Well, the humor-me-please look was on full-force and hey, even the Great Uzumaki had to crumple.

"Honeybear, you look gorgeous and you know it."

Which pacified her, of course. I grinned and offered her my arm, and walked her out of her room and to the door like the perfect date. Only, you know, I wasn't her perfect date. Regardless, I exaggerated a bow to her, and she laughed as she walked out of apartment 7A.

Moments later, I walked to the window, and there she was, climbing into the taxi that had been waiting in front of our apartment building.

I waved, but she didn't see.

-

So what did that throw me into?

A fricking emo funk, that's what.

-

I sat on the couch for a long time. Didn't even bother turning on the lights, even when eight o'clock approached and night was falling on New York City.

Would be a waste of electricity, anyway. And Sakura would've approved, she's so eco-conscious nowadays. But maybe watching the electricity bill was a habit that I hadn't broken yet. Or maybe I was just being sulky. Again. Dammit Naruto!

It was a majorly depressing way to spend a Friday. Once the school year started, I would _never_ even _consider_ tossing away my Friday like this. But it was August, there was still two weeks to go, and I didn't have to deal with the kiddos day in and day out yet… and besides, Sakura was chatting up high society, and the bastard, well…

I would have broken out of this moping eventually, because I'm a naturally cheerful guy.

But I didn't have to, because someone did it for me.

-

Because fate, in the end, doesn't hate me that much.

Or, well. It does, but!

Still.

-

8:20 PM ET, and who else but one Mr. Iruka walks in. To visit his favorite student ever! Yes, everyone, that's me.

(And hey, this guy is one of my favorite people in the world. Seriously. This thirty-six-year-old guy with the brown ponytail, faint scar over the bridge of this nose, mild-mannered and general nice guy… who's he? Why's he special?

Well, a lot of reasons. He's just great, okay? Take my word for it.)

… He made me dinner.

Naruto Uzumaki thus was all smiles.

It wasn't ramen, but…

For a dude, his cooking is phenomenal.

Okay, for pretty much anyone short of a chef at those swanky Times Square restaurants, his cooking is phenomenal. It's like Kakashi's coffee. Enough said, right?

Visits from Iruka are always good, except when they're not.

"Naruto, I think your neighbor has a problem with me."

"… Kakashi? Seriously? Nah, I doubt that."

"Really, Naruto. He wouldn't stop staring at me. I was wondering if I'd offended him."

(_Ohshit. _Uh, no, Iruka. You didn't offend the man. And god, but Iruka's such a saint. Can't even fathom that psychotic nymphomaniac might possibly be checking him out.)

I stayed silent for a minute, thinking about it. And then – "Okay! I have a plan! What we'll do is… I'll let you out through the fire escape! Yeah, that's it! And you can keep it real quiet and stealthy-like and I'll keep a look out in the hallway and then I'll give you the signal and - "

"What on _earth_ are you whispering about, Naruto?" And I know that Iruka was totally worried about my mental health, but really!

"I'm helping you escape!" I whispered fiercely.

"… …from?"

"_Him!_" I jerked my thumb in the general direction of apartment 7B.

Iruka looked like he wanted to call one of his guidance counselor friends. Why didn't he _get _it?

He was going to find himself in a dark alley walking home and BAM!

"_Iruka he's gonna _rape _you!_" I whisper-wailed.

I expected the light bulb to go off. I expected him to get it. But Iruka only blinked and pointed behind me.

"You mean him?"

"Yes, Naruto, who's raping _who_?" came Kakashi's lazy drawl.

I shrieked. ("I LOCKED THAT DOOR, I SWEAR I DID!")

And I, with all the lightning reflexes of a jungle cat (rawr), pounced my old Lit teacher. (In retrospect, Kakashi didn't do much to stop me. I think he may have even _enjoyed_ the situation, actually, cruelly delighting in my frenzy… the sadistic freak.) Hollering all the while: "RUN IRUKA… I'LL HOLD HIM OFF! RUN!"

And though I was valiantly making an attempt to save him, so nobly sacrificing _myself_ – Iruka still looked blank. And a little worried.

"… Is he… Is he always like this?" I heard Iruka ask hesitantly, while I wrangled with Kakashi-that-beast.

And Kakashi-that-beast simply said: "Yes. Yes he is."

("Stop _fraternizing _with him! You're gonna become his floozie! No, Iruka, I can't let that happ–")

-

Fifteen minutes later, Iruka had gently pried me off, apologizing on my behalf to Kakashi, who had graciously accepted them while giving me diabolical winks, and I flailed with injustice and woe –

I was now sitting calm and subdued on the couch, meekly sipping tea between my two old teachers.

Naruto Uzumaki is a good boy.

"Now, Naruto, I'm a little concerned about you," Iruka said gently. Kakashi nodded happily next to him.

_Enjoy sitting next to him, because that's as close as you're gonna get, perv._

Kakashi seemed to sense my sentiments – he really is cool like that, I must give it to him. "And, Naruto, how could you imply such things about your old, very _respectable_ teacher?" And damn, is he _good_ at that acting-like-I'm-innocent thing. Stupid Lit teachers.

So I muttered rebellious mutters and thought rebellious thoughts, but then Kakashi leaned close to Iruka (_too close! get away from him!_) to whisper something in Iruka's ear, presumably about yours truly and what a poor deranged boy I am, etc., and suddenly Iruka's very kind face just _flooded_ with compassion.

_Aw _crap_, Kakashi_.

"Oh, Naruto. Is _that_ why you're upset?" Iruka asked kindly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I haven't a clue (okay, maybe I have, but I'm not _sure_), but…

"I'm fine, Mr. Iruka, really! That was uh, just a lapse of uh, uh, something. Whatever he told you, I'm fine and I don't need any _talks_ I swear–"

"I think it's important that Naruto shares his feelings." Kakashi said placidly.

Iruka, of course, agreed. "Naruto, we're only concerned about your well-being. I know Sakura's out tonight, and…"

Oh _no_.

"Yes, Naruto, we're just concerned for your well-being," Kakashi reiterated pleasantly. "And as I said in a past life, 'Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.' We're only trying to help."

Bollocks.

And I love him, but really: _Thou art loathsome as a toad_.

-

They left, eventually. After a good deal of mutual sharing and hugging and… yeah.

The first step is admitting you have a problem…

Double bollocks.

But 12:23 PM EST and then everything became inevitable.

In-ev-it-able.

-

"I'm home, Naruto!"

How did she know I was even awake, anyway? I mean, seriously, it was after midnight and all, I could totally be dead asleep and –

"I know you're still awake, you _always_ wait up for me."

Well, and that. I poked my head outside my bedroom and told her: "Honeybear, that is _not_ the way to appreciate a man–"

Well, I tried to inform her, but she kind of wasn't listening to me. Like, at all. Not that this was an unusual thing, but, tonight she really was very very happy to the point of emitting a physical glow and I _know_ Sakura and suddenly there was this big dark gloomy foreboding feeling creeping up in my gut. And I am a man who trusts his intuition, yessirree.

She looked at me, all happy-like. I looked at her, and feared, feared, _feared_.

_And okay, so Sakura was going to his gala. Well, so what. It only took a little luck for it to be some quick hello-and-goodbye, or maybe a polite how-you've-been and hell, I didn't expect the bastard to actually socialize. And that would be it. I'd never have to see his smirking mug ever again._

So remember that piece of reasoning? Yeah?

Oh Mature Naruto, you're so… mature.

"… I… talked to Sasuke Uchiha a lot tonight."

(_…It only took a little luck for it to be some quick hello-and-goodbye, or maybe a polite how-you've-been_)

"… He's… a little closed-off, but very polite, and I think beneath it there's a really nice guy, Naruto, I don't know why you never liked him."

(_and hell, I didn't expect the bastard to actually socialize._)

"And I wanted to see him again…"

No.

(_And that would be it._)

"… so I asked him to have lunch with us tomorrow."

(_I'd never have to see his smirking mug ever again_.)

(_… Ever again_.)

(… _Ever. Fucking. Again_.)

-

Mature Naruto, fuck you. You lied.

-

I didn't go to lunch with them, in the end.

How could I? I really, really, _really_ didn't like this guy. I didn't want to see him. Because, God, I didn't _hate_ high school or anything, but it's the kind of thing that once you get out, you're _out_ and free, and – Sakura flirting with Sasuke? Me not really wanting to be there? That would be a ten-year throwback that I didn't want to go through again. Screw 'for old times' sake.'

Sakura didn't seem too disappointed.

And she came home with: "… I really like him, Naruto."

Didn't I know it.

-

And, heck, even oblivious ol' Naruto knew where _this_ was heading.

She told me a week later that she was officially the girlfriend of Sasuke freaking Uchiha.

And though I saw it coming miles and miles away… my brain flatlined.

-

I teach global and American history to high school sophomores and juniors.

Two weeks after the Uchiha-hosted gala, August ended and September bulldozed right in. Four days later, the school year officially started. I had a fresh set of sophomores, the snarky little things. And the snarkier slightly- bigger things, the juniors, yep, I had them too. And just like that, my life had suddenly snapped back to a routine of 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. in front of these hordes of wild young things who drive me up the wall and whom I drive up the wall in return –

It was nice. It was at least a semblance of normality. I wasn't being afflicted by Sakura having a new boyfriend. I wasn't afflicted by the way she walked around lovestruck. Or the way she came home and told me that _Sasuke is so sweet he sent me flowers at work and I _– no. I wasn't afflicted by her gazing hesitantly at her cell phone, and I didn't huff and burst out in "_just call him already, dammit!"_

"Mr. Uzumaki, are you okay?"

(Some of my students are real sweethearts.)

"Because it's not like the guy looks like he wants to _kill someone_ or anything, really."

That totally didn't drip with sarcasm.

(And some of my students are running into asshole territory.)

Hey, snarky sophomore twit with the dyed-blue hair. Did you say I look like I want to kill someone? Kinda sorta yeah. Well, my chickadees, teacher man Naruto can and will make Stalin look like the Easter bunny. Behold my glare of death, fool. Stop provoking me.

"Hey, Kazoo boy?" I asked pleasantly. "Be quiet. Class, the Enlightenment in Europe, here we go."

"It's _Kazuki_," he corrected flatly.

I ignored him.

"And ahem, _Enlightenment_ in _Europe_, class." I said loudly.

-

Man, okay, so I was crabby. Do you know why?

-

Sakura.

Going out.

With Sasuke Uchiha.

That's not really why I was crabby. Surprised, you bet I was. But my incredibly gorgeous and intelligent Sakura… well, the woman is still gorgeous, but medical degree or not, prodigious young doctor or not, the woman is not quite as smart as I thought. Or maybe she's smart, but she certainly isn't quite _sane_.

Guess what she had.

A plot, okay, that was an easy one. And yes, everybody, that was what's making Naruto Uzumaki so crabby.

But guess what it _was_.

The Naruto and Sasuke Friendship Campaign.

…

I told you the woman was out of her mind.

_Drum roll baby, it's drama time._

-

So in the end, I am the ex-husband.

Who was about to become _the other man_ in the weirdest way possible.

My darling ex-wife was going out with my high school worst enemy. Said ex-wife was trying to get me to _be friends_ with the bastard. To fraternize with him and interact politely, and god forbid, actually entertain the thought of possibly _liking _him.

I am the ex-husband who recommended to Tsunade to check the said ex-wife into the psychiatric unit of Konoha General. I am the ex-husband who got hit when he said that. I am the ex-husband who was roundly disbelieved when he said that his honeybear had gone absolutely _crackers_.

I mean, really.

The Naruto and Sasuke Friendship Campaign.

… _Friendship Campaign!_

Ladies and gentlemen, if that doesn't sound kind of like a cracktastic sitcom waiting to happen, then I don't know what is.

If only she knew what was going to happen.

If only, if only, if only.

My name is Naruto Uzumaki, and I swear to God that I honestly didn't mean to fall in love with the bastard.

-

_/end act one._

-

Author's note: Oh my god, I hate this. Exponentially more so than the previous one. I know it's short. I know nothing happens. I know it drags. I know that the storyline is crawling at an unbelievably slow pace. I know I'm not funny. Why I'm attempting romcom? IDK. And _Ladelle?_ You're absolutely right, this is so disconnected. Major revision is in store if I'm ever to be remotely proud of _Love, Shakespeare_.

But now that I'm done with the first part, good stuff can happen now, right? Like omg!sexualtension! and the wonders of the Naruto and Sasuke Friendship Campaign? Voice is now well established, Naruto can stop whining, and it should be nothing but action, baby, nothing but action?

I'm so dead right now it's not even funny.

On the other hand, I am so pleased with you guys. Utter darlings, all of you. And dropping a line this time would be unbelievably awesome, y'know.


End file.
